


Unshaken

by wanderryn



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Canon Divergent, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Death, Past Relationships, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Spoilers, Time Skips, Unrequited Love, arthur gets around
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 08:21:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18634384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderryn/pseuds/wanderryn
Summary: Arthur Morgan was not a callous man, cynical and a tad pessimistic on the best of days but his life hadn’t been so bad as to turn him entirely against the idea of hope. If anything the things he’d seen, the things he’d been through had pushed him to want to do better, to be better. To see the world become something better. It was that very same drive that pushed him to follow Dutch so closely. At first, it had been only because he felt he needed to repay the man that had saved his life so many years ago. A false sense of debt, despite all reassurances that it wasn’t necessary. As time passed though it came from loyalty, loyalty to the only man who’d ever seen him for what he truly was, even when he couldn’t see it in himself. But even that passed with time, his loyalty never faded mind you, but Dutch was more than just a mentor to him now, he was a friend. He was family. He was the man who taught him that despite everything, this world was meant for them, they could be whatever they wanted out here. Sometimes he still needed a reminder, but deep down inside he knew it to be true.He never thought the time might come where he’d truly doubt that, where he’d truly doubt Dutch. Death has a way of changing things.





	Unshaken

**Author's Note:**

> This starts out at the beginning of Chapter Six but will jump back and forth to earlier chapters as Arthur reminisces on his life during his final days.
> 
> There's a lot of entwined ships and unrequited love coming so be prepared.

        The soft kerthunk of his horse's hooves in the mud kept his mind steady, following along to the beat of an unplayed song as the wind whipped around blowing off the remains of a storm. Taking off his hat he shook the water from it and placed it back over his damp hair. It hadn’t done much to help keep him dry, that damned storm had rolled in out of nowhere, no warning, no time to find shelter before he and the horse both were soaked to the bone. A part of him had thought he should look anyway, but the water pelted his skin like little needles and in a way, he’d found it calming. He apologized to his poor mare more times than he could count, knowing she hated every second of it. Shaking her mane out she huffed, stomping in frustration in a spot a tad too wet for her, earning a small chuckle from the man upon her back. He’d needed that after the news he’d just received, needed a chance to clear his mind before trying to go back in and meet up with Sadie again.

        “Sorry, Daisy,” he murmured, patting her neck once more, only receiving a grunt in response. He supposed he deserved that, making her sit in this rain with him even if it only lasted for a short while. He’d make it up to her though, they were only about a mile out from Saint Denis now, he’d pull up into the stables first thing and pay however much he had to to get her the full care package. She’d forgive him then...he hoped. The rest of the ride into town passed quicker than he’d expected, his mind elsewhere as he remembered why he was heading back down here.

        The past few weeks, hell the past few months had been...well hell. Arthur couldn’t quite pinpoint when it had started, maybe it had started back in Blackwater, or maybe that was just when he’d finally started noticing it. Things just hadn’t been the same, Dutch hadn’t been the same, and that meant nothing was for anyone in the camp. Even then he never would have expected for things to turn the way they did. How was he to know that Blackwater would be the breaking point for them? So much had happened since then, so many had died, and if you asked Arthur they were all deaths that could have been avoided. If only Dutch would listen, for just a second.

        The deaths all struck him hard, every loss taking a piece of him with it, he’d figured it was only emotionally but now...well he didn’t want to think about that. Hearing the sound of hooves on the bridge brought him back out of his mind, back to reality and whatever horrible thing was likely about to happen to him next. That was a bit bleak, maybe he needed a drink. He knew Sadie was waiting for him in the saloon over by the other bridge into town, she’d said it was important but hopefully she wouldn’t mind putting it off for just a moment. He couldn’t tell her why though, not yet. He wasn’t ready for that conversation.

        Despite it being for the best, for his horse’s sake at least, he instantly regretted going to the stable first. Sitting there waiting while the stable hands took care of his horse only gave him more time to drift in his own thoughts, and every turn took him down a darker path. He still hadn’t told anyone, probably wouldn’t tell anyone, not with everything else going on right now. They had to figure out what the plan was, had to break John out of jail and high tail it out of here before they lost anyone else. They’d hesitate if they knew, and he couldn’t be the thing to hold everyone else back from finally gaining their lives on track again.

        It took three tries for the stable master to get his attention, snapping in his face before leaning forward. “You alright there, sir? You’re looking a bit...pale. You should probably go get yaself cleaned up too before you catch yer death.” Arthur only waved it off though, shaking his head at the man as he dug out his wallet to pay him, clicking his tongue to get Daisy’s attention. As the man counted the money he left the cowboy to coo at his horse, running his hand down the length of her nose.

        “There you are girl, all better,” he murmured smiling when she bumped her snout against his palm and puffed a breath at him. “Oh, I see, only partially forgiven, what you wan’ a carrot too or somethin’?” Feeling her nibble playfully at his palm he shook his head and dug into the pack on her side, pulling out a carrot and snapping it in half to give to her. “Now am I forgiven?” Practically ignored by the mare chewing away he chuckled to himself and climbed up onto the saddle, thanking the men again before slipping out and making a beeline for the saloon.

        Hitching the horse outside on a pole he slipped into the bar, coughing into his glove and quickly wiping his mouth before planting himself down on a stool. He was now about two shots in, and about 45 minutes into sitting alone at that bar wondering where that fiery woman was. She’d told him to meet her here half an hour ago, made a huge point about being on time too and yet here he was. He couldn’t ignore the twist of worry in his gut, the Pinkertons had still been hot on their trail through all this, what if they’d gotten her before she could make it into town? Would they have dragged her off to jail with John? No, they were more likely to toss her in a mental facility, claim she has hysteria or something and let her rot alone. A bullet to the head would be the kinder choice. Just as he was about to get up to go look for her the doors creaked open, his head whipping around hoping to see that wild blonde hair and that burning gaze.

        The unease rushed out of him the moment he saw that crooked grin on her freckled face, marching up to him and practically dragging him up out of his seat and right back out the swinging doors. “Any problems getting in?” she asked looking him over, if she noticed the distinct lack of color in his face she didn’t comment on it. If she heard the rasp in his voice as he grunted out a negative she didn’t comment on it either. Maybe he didn’t look half as bad as he thought, or maybe he’d looked like this long enough that no one realized it was unusual. Had he been that oblivious to it? “Guess they know we ain’t in the city anymore,” she shrugged slightly walking over to where she’d hitched her horse right next to his. Leaning against the post though she tilted her hat back, looking up at the midday sun and the clouds rolling through with an unspoken curse on the tip of her tongue.

        “Who? The Pinkertons?” he gruffed patting his horse absentmindedly, feeling her perk up under the attention. “They ain’t give up yet?”

        “Not even close, had patrols out ever since you boys ran off on us. At least yer still kickin’ though, what happened while you were uh…”

        “In Guarma?” he asked, covering the dry snort at her mentioning him still being alive. How he was at this point was beyond him, almost had him wondering if maybe he should have let himself grow callous, left behind this life. Maybe he’d be better for it, maybe they’d all be better for it. Or maybe they wouldn’t, he was tired of having these mini existential crises every few minutes. It was more taxing than...he really needed to stop going that route. “Nothing nice,” he ascended at her nod.

        “What about Dutch, what happened to him? He seems…”

        “I don’t know,” he sighed, coming out more like a wheeze til he cleared his throat. “Seems as whatever began happening in Blackwater, began happening years ago...A slow decline, I guess, I don’t know.” And he hated that he didn’t know, he hated not having answers even for himself. Arthur looked at Daisy, sniffing at the post almost impatiently, ready to go again now that he was out there. She was never one for standing idle if it wasn’t back at camp where she could eat, socialize with the other horses at least. He felt bad, running his fingers through her newly brushed out mane to help steady her again.

        “What do you mean?” Sadie asked breaking him from his wandering train of thought again.

        “I ain’t sure, Sadie, been tryin’ to figure it out myself. What happened here?” He needed the subject change, he’d thought too much on what was going on with Dutch already and he couldn’t keep going in circles like this with no concrete answers. If he kept focusing on it, it’d drive him crazy. Probably drive him to drink again too, and that was just a quicker way into the grave at this point. Wouldn’t do anybody any good.

        “Well, I started gathering people up best I could, with you boys gone everyone scattered, nobody knew what to do,” Sadie said finally unhitching her horse and climbing up on it, giving Arthur the chance to do so as well before starting off down the street, headed out of Saint Denis again. “And John, well you know what happened with him already.” There was an unexpected softness to her then, that constant edge to her voice fading some. She knew about him and John, or at least knew how he felt about the man, he still wasn’t used to her acting like this about it. Kind, understanding, no hate or disgust in her tone. She was always gentle, wary of reopening the wound Arthur doubted would ever fully heal. “And...Hosea?”

        His mind was somewhere else again, if only for just a short moment. John looking up at him from where he lay in the cot, half his face covered in blood-soaked bandages but a weary smile painted across his lips none the less. He told Arthur he’d be up again in a few days, just a few days, that was all he needed, so stop worrying. A few days was a few weeks, and Arthur never stopped worrying even after he saw him standing on his own two feet again. John was still alive though, he’d just have to repeat that like a mantra until he saw it with his own two eyes. He knew he’d never stop worrying though.

        “I do,” he said following along behind her, gaze cast down. “Saw that too. Heard you were able to get Lenny though.” For a moment, just a moment he thought he heard him say his name, felt a hand hit his shoulder too heavy as he leaned against him with that wild grin on his face. That one stung so much more than the others, he’d been so close, if he’d just been a little faster he could have...he couldn’t have done anything. Grasping desperately at a change of subject again he turned it onto her plan, whatever it was, he still didn’t even know what they were doing down here in town if the law was still gunning for them. “What’s the plan, Sadie?”

        That was a dangerous question to ask an even more dangerous woman. Next thing he knew he was up in a hot air balloon with some man rambling on about how flight messed with a woman’s vapors. Whatever the hell that meant. Had he known he was going to get dragged into something like this he would have passed on the shots, feeling them swirl around uncomfortably in his stomach as they soared above the clouds headed straight for the work fields of the local prison. This idea had to be right up there with Dutch’s shoot from the boat plan. It was stupid, it was risky, and put him way out of his comfort zone with little to no warning.

        That wasn’t to say that Arthur was afraid of heights or anything, nor was it to say he wasn’t. He just refused to put that to words, but the hesitancy had been written all over his face before he’d even climbed into the basket, wondering why Sadie wouldn’t be joining them. When the man told him that he’d be taking over control, it only made the discomfort worse. He could taste whiskey and bile on the back of his tongue, mixing with the toxic taste of iron and making him gag quietly to himself. How hard could this be though? Pull the rope to go higher, ease off to go lower. He could do that, surely. Breaking through the clouds though washed what little color he’d had in his face right out, and he stared down through the breaks to see the earth below as the wind pulled them quickly through the sky.

        What little confidence he’d gotten as he got used to the controls was immediately dashed away as the clouds began to part. He was grateful for being able to pass them back to the other man, pulling out his binoculars to search for John as the man worried about getting too close. Spotting John Marston stuck in line with the rest of his chain gang, working in those fields, was the only highlight of this ridiculous mission. Being shot at by the guard for drifting too low to make sure it was him wasn’t where the bull shit ended though. No, Sadie had to go and get herself into trouble with those damned O’Driscolls again, and Arthur had to quite literally swoop in to save her. The man who owned the hot air balloon was killed somewhere along the way, falling out of the basket and onto the train tracks below. The balloon itself was destroyed shortly after as he and Sadie narrowly missed crashing into the river landing instead on the unforgiving rocky earth beside it. And as if that wasn’t enough they’d still been followed, standing their ground amongst the cover of the trees they had to have taken out at least 20 men by the time the sun was settling on the horizon.

        “The hell is wrong with you, Sadie, I leave for an hour and you get us dragged into this shit,” Arthur panted, walking up to her, checking for any injuries despite the anger rumbling through his voice. “Can’t you stay out of trouble for one god damn hour? You got that poor bastard killed for all this, not to mention the fact that your brilliant idea got me spotted by the prison guard. We’ll be lucky if they don’t come after us even harder now, or worse, string John up today!”

        It was like she didn’t hear a word he’d said though, marching up to him with that same fire still blazing in her eyes, that damned grin never leaving her face. She enjoyed this far more than she probably should. “They got Colm, Arthur. The government got Colm O’Driscoll, they’re gonna hang him in Saint Denis.”

        He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, turning about to snatch his hat up out of the dirt and dust it off. “Figured you’d be happy about that--”

        “No, you don’t understand, they’ve tried him twice already for murder. Found him guilty both times--” She stomped closer, grabbing his shirt sleeve to gain his full attention again.

        “So he’ll escape like he does every time,” Arthur was just not having it right now, there were more important things to deal with, and Dutch’s need to get revenge against Colm O’Driscoll was half the reason they were in this mess. Now Sadie was dragging them even further into it? Did he need to remind her that Colm beat him half to death? He had every reason to want to go after that bastard himself, but he knew now just wasn’t the time. They needed to focus on keeping those they still had alive, not running head first into another god damn deathmatch.

        “Not if we do something about it!”

        “Sadie, we got our own problems with the law in case you ain’t noticed, you really think we need to be ridin’ into Saint Denis right now to make sure they hang that bastard?”

        “Dutch’ll wanna see him swing,” she shot back. It was childish, she knew it too, he could hear it in her voice even as she turned her back on him looking at the littered bodies throughout the woods. To think she’d pull that card, tug at the part of him that wanted to please Dutch, to prove he was still loyal to him. But his anger quickly overrode it, why give Dutch the satisfaction of seeing that bastard swing when he couldn’t even be bothered to lift a hand to help get John back. Hell he was so focused on getting money and running away right now that Arthur wouldn’t doubt he’d leave them all behind if they went after Colm.

        “Don’t you even bring him up right now, we got more important things to deal with. You know how things is,” Arthur growled turning on her again.

        “He’s gonna swing, I’m gonna make sure of it, even if it means I gotta hang the bastard myself--”

        “You gonna help rope Marston up too?!” Arthur snapped, feeling his lungs fight against the rise of his voice, scratching as he fought the build of a cough in the back of his throat. “Because that’s where we’re headed right now!”

        “...you saw him?” Sadie faltered, looking at him a bit wide-eyed, but there was no fear. Arthur didn’t scare her, no matter how angry he might get, she knew he’d never raise a hand to her. Not like other men would for her supposed speaking out of turn.

        “Yes-yeah, I saw him. In the fields,” he gestured in the vague direction of the work fields he’d just been over before things went south again.

        “Okay...then we go rescue him,” she said matter of factly.

        Choking out a laugh around a cough, Arthur finally let his shoulders drop, the anger quickly fading back out of him dragging so much of his energy with it. “From a state penitentiary? I knew you were crazy, but this is a whole new level, even fer you, Sadie.”

        “No, but from the fields, yes. We can manage that no problem. It may be guarded but at least he ain’t behind bars there, we don’t gotta break him out, just keep him from getting shot and make a run fer it. Best we go alone, just the two of us.” Whistling for her horse they heard a whinny in the distance before both his and hers came running up through the trees. He was glad she’d kept Daisy close, he wasn’t about to walk back to camp in the state he’s in. Would he even make it if he tried?

        “Two of us is all we got now,” he sighed walking over to Daisy to tuck his rifle back in on his saddle. “They probably already pulled them back in, no point in trying so soon anyway. They’ll have their guard up more.”

        “I’ll get us a boat then, we sneak in, and get him out of there. No problem. Meet me at Copperhead Landing.” He wished he could feel as certain about this as she did, he wanted to get John back, he needed to know he was safe but this...nothing felt right to him anymore. Every time someone came up with another wild plan he could only wonder who he’d lose next.

        “You got it, boss,” he snarked earning another smirk from her. Well, that helped him feel a tad bit better.

        “Thank you, Arthur,” she crooned before taking off through the woods leaving him behind, yet again, with a mess of bodies to loot. Sometimes he got really tired of being the one left behind to clean up the mess. Daisy could be heard chewing away at some of the grass as he picked through the pockets of the dead men. This used to be relaxing for him, but the last couple of times he did this someone always managed to walk right past and see him bloody and surrounded by bodies. He’d paid off his own bounty more times than he’d like to admit. But still he found his thoughts drifting as they did so often lately, it was like he couldn't stay focused anymore no matter how hard he tried.

        Seeing John in that prison jumper had angered him in a way that he couldn’t put to words, even though he was relieved it was only that and not him covered in his own blood again. And just like that he was shot back to that cabin in the mountains, a heavy chill in the air as they were half buried under the snow left behind from the blizzard they’d barely made it through.

        “Arthur,” he heard his gruff voice call to him, his head whipping up to see him sitting up on the cot, clean bandages replacing the bloodied ones. His wounds had closed but they kept them covered to be safe, trying to prevent him from getting any infections, they’d gone through all the trouble of saving him from the wolves they couldn’t lose him to a fever. “You’re doin’ that thing again. With your face,” he gestured vaguely at his own before making a comical frown, pulling his lips too far down. It didn’t last long, a pained his escaping him as it tugged at one of the gashes in his cheek. “Shit…”

        “That’s what you get for makin’ fun of my face,” Arthur smirked leaning back in his chair and stretching his legs out in front of him. “Not that you got any room to talk, over there lookin’ like Frankenstein’s monster had a bastard with a mummy.”

        “You know I don’t get either of those references,” John grinned anyway, his one visible eye wandering over Arthur’s relaxed stance for a moment before drifting back up to his face. “I didn’t read all those weird books Hosea and Dutch always gave to us.”

        “This is why they ask for my opinion over yours,” Arthur shot back, noticing the lingering look and willing back the rise of heat on the back of his neck. Sure it was nice against the cold air in there despite the fire going, but he didn’t need to be caught blushing by Marston of all people. “Yer supposed to learn somethin’ from them.”

        “Yeah, I know, I don’t need to hear that lecture from you too. I get enough of it from Hosea. You can’t tell me you weren’t bored readin’ them like me.”

        “Not all of us need pictures to be entertained.”

        “Oh yeah, I see how it is, make fun of the injured guy ‘cause he can’t do nothin’ to stop you. I’m gonna kick yer ass later.”

        “How much later are we talkin’? ‘Cause you been laying aroun’ like you plan on becoming one with that cot.”

        “Arthur Morgan, yer an ass.”

        Arthur practically beamed at that, getting up and walking over to John, fully prepared to just pat his shoulder and tell him how glad he was to see him moving about again. He didn’t get that far though, his wrist caught surprisingly fast, tugging him down onto the cot and right on top of John. “What the hell--”

        “Is cold, blankets ain’t enough, keep me warm,” John grumbled into his chest, hooking his arms around him in a vice-like grip. He was getting strong again, his energy coming back quicker than he was letting on. Arthur would have reveled in the chance to tease him more but his mind was short-circuiting. “And before you say anything, ain’t no one comin’ in here to check on me. I heard them talkin’ earlier. Everybody’s too busy for me today, ‘cept for you apparently.”

        “John,” he finally managed to get out, trying to push up off of him. Things like this were fine when they were younger, it was innocent then, no one questioned it but Hosea still warned them about being too affectionate with each other. Lest they give someone the wrong idea. They knew what he meant, and so they’d stopped around anyone else, but alone they still clung to each other for comfort. The bond between them, it was different, not normal. No one could know, and so as they’d grown older Arthur pushed John further away. When John married Abigail, he bit his tongue and allowed him to be happy.

        He’d had Mary at that point too, it wasn’t quite the same with her, no one would ever be the same. But it worked, until it didn’t. Still, he pushed it down, he ignored it, and he moved on. This was so out of left field now, after so many years of ignoring the tension between them, that Arthur could scarcely wrap his head around it. He knew he was rigid as a board, even as he felt those strong hands sliding along his back. “John,” he hissed again, freezing the moment he felt chapped lips on his neck.

        “Don’t act like you ain’t been thinkin’ about this for a long time, I know you, Arthur Morgan,” his voice was pitched so low, gravel rumbling in his chest and shooting straight through to Arthur’s core. “You been holdin’ back ever since Abigail came into the picture.”

        “Exactly, you’re a married man now, Marston--”

        “John. You call me John, you always do. Don’t you get all distant on me now.” He felt those hands of his finally ease up, but only enough for him to push up onto his elbows, looking down into his eye. “You kiss me right now, Arthur. Like you’ve always wanted to.”

        Daisy’s panicked neigh snapped him back to, the sun had long since gone down, twigs snapping in the nearby trees as if something big was coming towards them. Arthur felt like a right idiot then, dropping his guard like this so close to where so many gators lurked. Grabbing his rifle he quickly stood up, aiming into the darkness searching for those wicked yellow eyes but finding nothing. Better to make a run for it then, those things were vicious and if it got its teeth around him or the horse they were both goners for sure. He hopped up onto Daisy’s saddle and cracked the reigns to rush her out just as he heard it hiss behind him. They narrowly made it out there, not a scratch on either of them...well at least not from the gator. He’d had a few too many close calls with the O’Driscolls, he needed to get to camp and clean himself up before he got an infection. That was the last thing he needed right now.

        Riding back to the camp he had to keep his mind from drifting back to that memory, though it was trying to so desperately. He hadn’t thought about John like that in a while, hadn’t allowed anything like to happen. Things had been too crazy, they were constantly escaping one disaster after another. There was no time to slip up, not for something so foolish least of all. If they had been caught...Arthur shook the thought out of his mind and pushed Daisy to go faster, reaching the camp quicker than he expected. He hitched her by the water with a pat on her neck before wandering over to his tent to collapse and finally get some much-needed rest.

        He only hoped that tomorrow would go better.


End file.
